“Nora was only a few blocks away from Flynn’s trailer,” he says, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands. “We were so close, and now we’re back to square one.”
“Actually, I don’t think we are,” I reply.
Josh bows his head and mutters, “Stop it, Regan. She’s gone.”
“Listen to me. That girl woke up for a minute and said practically the exact same thing my father did when I saw him in Elusion,” I say, latching on to his elbow and turning him toward me. “She talked about the firewall. And I saw the number fifty-twenty written on her hand.” I let go of his arm and tuck wet strands of hair behind my ears. “We can’t give up, Josh. This is just too coincidental to be ignored. There’s something in Elusion that we have to figure out, and we keep seeing the same clues. We have to keep pushing forward and believe that we’ll find the answers. Together.”
“But we’re at a dead end,” he snaps. “The best chance we had was with the files Avery cracked; we still don’t know what the significance of the anagram is, or why that number keeps showing up.”
“They lead somewhere. I know they do.”
“I want to believe that. I really want to, but—”
“Just trust me, please,” I say, locking eyes with him. “I know that might be hard, given what you must think about my dad right now, but I’m telling you . . . these signs are messages from him. There’s a bigger mystery here that he wants us to uncover, and if we don’t keep going, we’ll never know what it is. And it might be the key to everything—finding Nora, clearing his name, fixing Elusion. Everything.”
Josh takes a small step away from me, gazing at me suspiciously. “So what are you trying to say? You still think your father is alive?”
“No one knows what he said to me that day. Except for you, Patrick, and my mom. How in the world did some girl I’ve never even met find that out?”
“You’re right,” he admits. “It’s weird.”
“It’s not weird; it’s a clue. Even if you don’t think it’s coming from my father, we have to see where it leads.”
“I know you don’t want to give up,” he replies. “But have you considered that there’s nothing left for us to do but turn that information on the QuTap over to the press and wait? I don’t want to let go any more than you do. It just looks like we’re out of options.”
“No, we’re not.”
I reach into my bag and pull out my tab, checking the time on the screen.
It’s 8:32. I can still make it.
“I’m going to Elusion to talk with Patrick,” I say.
Instead of retreating even more, Josh gently puts his arm around my shoulders.
“I don’t want you to do that.” His voice isn’t commanding or harsh. He’s just trying to show me that he cares.
I have to admit, his touch feels wonderful.
“I’ll be okay, I promise.” I slip my tab back into my bag.
“What are you going to say to him?”
“I know he’s running scared. Maybe if I confront him about the memo, and tell him that Avery has it, I can convince him to help us to inspect this firewall,” I explain.
“Then I should come with you.” I look up at him and his breath tickles my eyelashes, and I stop myself from breaking into a smile. “That way if anything happens—”
“I need to do this alone. I know I haven’t been able to yet, but I think I’m the only person who can get through to him.”
Josh sticks his hand out to his side, and it seems as though he’s checking to see if the rain has stopped. Then he grins and takes off his O2 shield, nodding at me like he wants me to do the same. Once I close my umbrella and shove it and my O2 in my bag, he puts his hand around my wrist, turning it inward so he can kiss my palm. His eyes are still golden brown, but if I read them correctly, they’re flickering with fear. He takes his other hand and places it on the small of my back, leading me so close to him that I can practically feel his frantic heartbeat thumping against my chest. His lips press against my forehead, and then again on my right cheek, each time as delicate as a feather tracing against my skin.
And then his mouth is on mine, his hands caressing the nape of my bare neck. A rush of heat burns through my arms and legs as I reach around his strong back and hold him as tightly as I can. His tongue slips between my lips and I tremble, my mind drifting off to a distant place. As Josh pulls away, we lean our foreheads together, sighing. When he kissed me in Elusion, I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I did think that nothing could ever compare to how I felt in that ice cave. I was wrong.
This is much, much better.
Because it’s real. And I know what it means.
“Promise me something,” he whispers as I press my cheek against his shoulder.
“Anything.”
“Come back to me. As soon as you can.”
SIXTEEN
THE FIRST THING PATRICK DOES WHEN HE sees me in Elusion is throw his arms around me, trapping my arms at my sides and squeezing so tightly that I can’t really move.
But I want to. More than anything, I want to be moving—toward the firewall and whatever lies behind it. After seeing 5020 written on that girl’s hand and hearing her talk like my father, I’m convinced that there’s yet another layer to this mind-boggling mystery, and it’s all hidden in the borders of the Escapes.
Perhaps with a final answer to whether or not my father is dead.
But now it’s time for the hard part. Convincing Patrick that he has to let go of whatever remaining secrets he’s keeping, before any more lives are lost. So far, I haven’t been successful at breaking through the suit of armor he has built for himself over the past week. Then again, from the sound of his quick breathing and the desperate way he’s clutching me, maybe he’s finally about to come clean.
If not, I’m prepared to push him over the edge. I have to do something—anything—to drive this sinking boat back to shore. I owe it to the people he and my father have put at risk. I can’t make a mistake. I can’t let him leave here without telling me what he knows.
“Thank you so much for coming,” he says. “This is the only place I could think of where we couldn’t be followed or monitored.”
When Patrick pulls back a little and loosens his grip on me, I get a closer look at him. He’s wearing a male version of my current Elusion-provided outfit—a loose, plaid flannel shirt, knee-length cargo shorts, and high-top hiking boots. His blue eyes are weary and drooping at the corners, and his skin has lost almost all of its natural pigment. Which is very odd, considering how perfect and surreal everything usually looks here.
I manage to wiggle away from Patrick’s grasp and begin to glance around the rest of the Escape. We are standing in a field that’s thick with glimmering gold stalks and geometric-shaped bushes filled with succulent berries that glow like fireflies. But above us is a pitch-black sky, with thousands of grasshopper-green numbers, letters, and symbols, scattered throughout it like numerical stars.